"Well, Mr. ’ ‘He said!’ Melusine uttered scornfully. He hadn't played fair. “Now listen. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. " "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money.
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